Inspiration Point
by suerum
Summary: Spinelli almost does something irrevocable and it's up to Jason to stop him.


**_A/N: I have no rights or affiliation with the characters presented within this piece_**

Inspiration Point

He looked out over the diamonds scattered as far as the eye could see. He knew each pinprick of sparkling light represented something-a streetlamp, someone's bedroom, an office in a high rise. Yet, none of it was connected to him. He finally got it, fully understood it-the cosmic joke that was his very existence. It was his destiny to be perennially on the outside looking in at those magical lighted spaces like some new age matchstick girl. Quite apropos really when you considered why he had come up here. Except he had to be fair to his little fictional predecessor, she hadn't chosen to leave, circumstances had dictated it for her. Still, it wasn't that far removed from his own situation. Whether it was an actual blizzard or an emotional one they were both done with life…

Instead of looking out over Port Charles he bent his head and looked directly downwards past his feet into the endless and beckoning abyss. It would be so simple, he would just need to scoot forward a few inches past his natural balance point, perhaps using his hands to propel himself outward. Then…well, then for a brief moment he would fulfill a cherished dream and know what it was to experience flight followed quickly by the blissful sweetness of oblivion. He was actually doing it, slowly, hesitantly, not with total commitment but he was closer to the edge of the parapet then he had been but a second ago when the voice intruded.

"Hey," it was one word, only a syllable breathed out on the warm night air but it was fraught with meaning, fear-and was it anger-he couldn't quite tell, mingled in its release to color everything around him. He had come and his presence shattered the placid veneer borne of numbness. Suddenly the vista in front of him blurred as tears clouded his vision, he had come…

"Spinelli," a new word to disrupt the stillness of the dark sanctuary but this time it was spoken with a quiet softness, had almost a pleading note to it. He didn't understand what cause there might be for Stone Cold to be a supplicant to the Jackal, it was unnatural and the Earth's magnetic poles were surely in danger of reversing before their time when the very order of things was so altered. It was always the grasshopper who required his Master's dispensation to act, to be, to plainly exist never the other way around.

"What?" It was his own syllable produced with audible effort, his voice thick with pain, death imminent in his eyes if they had been visible as more than a reflective surface in the pallid, indifferent moonlight.

"What are you doing?" It was an inane question, each of them knew exactly what he had been doing. The one was both relieved and distraught at being interrupted and the other was relieved that he wasn't too late and yet terrified that he might still be.

"Why are you here?" Finally, finally when it was all but too late he had discovered the fine art of deflection as he countered with his own query.

"I was worried about you." Even in his brevity, Jason's sincerity shone through. He was saying nothing more and nothing less than the absolute truth, a world of care and affection and need condensed into one simple sentence.

"There was no need for Stone Cold to trouble himself. As he can see, the Jackal is fine…he simply needed some quietude in order to contemplate…things."

Spinelli was not matching Jason's honesty. As a matter of fact his duplicity confounded and astounded his mentor who had come to expect transparency if not clarity from his protégé. He only hoped the fact that Spinelli was actually talking to him, even if he was lying-to Jason and to himself-was a good sign, a hopeful omen. Yet he couldn't entrust Spinelli's life to faith alone. Jason inched incrementally closer as he gauged the remaining distance between them and the perilous drop so close by for which there would be no remedy but the fundamentally biased hand of gravity.

"Contemplating what exactly, Spinelli?" Jason understood instinctually that he must keep him talking and interactive, that his mind couldn't be allowed to stray once more to the inviting and intriguing inky blackness below. If he were to go then Jason would go with him. He wondered if he told him that if it might be enough to forestall him at least long enough so he could get him off this blasted wall and onto solid ground. He wasn't losing Spinelli, he couldn't, there wasn't any wiggle room on this point, it was entirely nonnegotiable.

"Destiny, mortality…death," now he wasn't prevaricating, the words, each one, struck a shard of ice into Jason's already aching heart.

"Those…those are serious concepts," he was close enough to touch him but he hadn't been as stealthy as he thought or maybe it was the sound of his voice, whatever the reason, Spinelli had swiveled around and was staring at him panic stricken. The shift in position had caused him to lose his balance and he was suddenly skidding backwards into empty space. "Spinelli!" It was a yell of pure panic as he scrambled for him, his fingertips grazing over stone frantically searching for flesh to grasp. He had him, his fingers grabbed reflexively around Spinelli's wrist and there he was-a dangling dead weight that pulled on every reserve of Jason's strength to keep him from plummeting to his death.

"Stone Cold," his shoulder was being yanked inexorably from its socket and now that the grim reaper was hanging in the air beside him sharpening his scythe with a rasping sound that resembled Spinelli's agitated breathing, the revelation that he wanted to live came abruptly to the fore. "Help me…"

"I've got you." Jason's voice was cracking with effort but it was clear that he would never relinquish his hold. He reached over with his other hand and bracing his feet against the base of the stone wall began the slow, painful process of hauling Spinelli back up onto the ledge.

Once he was a few inches higher, Spinelli himself began to aid in the rescue attempt. He wedged his toes into the thin rim of earth that ran along the outside edge of the wall and using his free arm managed to grab purchase on the stone surface. His torso draped supinely over the wall while Jason reached over and grabbed his belt to relieve the pressure on his arm and to assure himself of a new grip. He wasn't letting go of his boy until he was all the way on this side of the wall. For now he let Spinelli rest, they were equally exhausted. The adrenalin that had coursed through each of their systems had dissipated and they were both trembling in reaction to the nearness of a narrowly avoided cataclysm.

After several moments as he continued to lay sprawled out awkwardly on the rim of the granite wall, Spinelli wearily raised his head and looked at Jason with shadowed eyes, his breathing still heavy and ragged a reminder of how close Jason had come to losing him. "I owe you…" He began, his voice raspy with pain and fatigue.

"You owe me nothing, it's the other way around and always has been, Spinelli." He spoke earnestly, reaching out for the young man and gently cupping his chin in his hand as he stared intently down at him. "I never say it clearly but I will now, you are my family-you. I know you doubt it, doubt it so much, you must or you wouldn't have ended up here…" A shudder ran through him as he thought about what had almost happened, the creation of a parallel existence, one where this young man no longer existed, except as a poignant memory, a shade to confound and torment him at every turning. "I…I don't know what I would do without you. You're my conscience, my humanity, don't you recognize that?"

His voice-its cadence and timbre-were unfamiliar to Spinelli as his mentor, his roommate, his father said what he had longed to hear for literally years. He was speaking softly, his speech halting and tentative as he tried to express emotions usually kept tightly controlled. Yet, he knew whatever had driven Spinelli to come to Inspiration Point, to consider ending his life and indeed almost succeeding except for Jason's quick reflexes and a dash of luck, must be profound and related to his perennial issues revolving around the twin emotional demons of love and acceptance.

"No," he held up a hand to stop Spinelli who had opened his mouth to speak, "Let me finish this, or I might not say it." He paused, never breaking eye contact with his friend. "You have helped me and stood by me so many times and I have appreciated every one but I haven't done the same by you." Spinelli tried to speak again, to protest Jason was sure but he curtailed him with a sharp shake of his head. "No, you don't get to make excuses for me, Spinelli. This is on me and I want, no, I _need _toown it. I doubt you'd be up here tonight if I treated you better, had been available and approachable when you needed me. All I can say is that I am sorry and I will change that-starting now. You can say anything to me, absolutely anything…" Jason had used up his quota of words, he had said all he could express for the moment.

"The Jackal is almost beyond words in his gratitude for Stone Cold's expression of what can only be termed as emotional revelations. He realizes how difficult such declarations are for him. However, it is not with reference to such disclosures no matter how appreciated-and never doubt the depth of the Jackal's returned sentiment-they are but rather to the matter at hand which is that I am experiencing no small discomfort in my current predicament and would desire some present relief from it…" He was gasping by the end of this convoluted discourse as he tried to combine his acknowledgment of what Jason's speech had cost him and what it had meant to Spinelli to hear it with the fact that he was in pain.

Jason was furious with himself. He had been so involved in spilling his guts, in trying to attain Spinelli's forgiveness that he hadn't even registered that the boy was in pain. Keeping a firm grasp on his belt, he looped Spinelli's good arm over his shoulders and by sitting on the wall provided leverage and support so that the hacker could slowly and carefully move back to Jason's side. Once Spinelli was sitting next to him, his breath coming in shuddering gasps, Jason thwacked him hard on the back of his head.

"Stone Cold," his tone was one of outraged indignation as he rubbed the afflicted area. "Why did you feel it necessary to administer corporeal punishment to an already injured and physically depleted Jackal?"

"Because," Jason said in a low intense tone, his voice shaking with emotion. "If you _ever_ do anything like that again, Spinelli…I'll kill you myself!" He twisted around on the wall and wrapped his arms around the boy in an impromptu hug. He couldn't believe how close he had come to never again having this opportunity to show Spinelli what he meant to him. At this moment, his moratorium against being touched, against shows of affection seemed the most pointless thing on the planet. All he cared about was that he was holding perhaps the most vital person in his life and that he was warm, whole and alive…

"Stone Cold," Spinelli spoke tentatively, his voice muffled against Jason's shoulder. He had wrapped his one good arm around his roommate as he shyly reciprocated the entirely unexpected embrace. "That is counterintuitive. If the Jackal were to kill himself then your threatening to do the same to him-to me-is simply a matter of…well, for a lack of a better word…overkill."

Jason placed one hand upon Spinelli's shoulder and with the other once again tilted his head up so that their eyes met and he knew Spinelli was listening to him. "I mean it, Spinelli," he said quietly, his emotions once again in check, "If you _ever_ feel like this again, you come find me, phone me, whatever it takes. I will be there for you-to listen, to help. You are not alone, not ever."

Spinelli nodded his head in solemn agreement. He would never forget the dreadful sensation of hanging over open space with nothing but Jason's unfailing grasp keeping him from certain death. "The Jackal will not again place himself in such a precarious position." He continued quickly, this time he was attempting to prevent Jason's interruption as he rushed to complete his statement. "Yes, if I ever again succumb to feelings of alienation, of despair I will contact you posthaste. Is the Master satisfied with his grasshopper's compliance in the matter?"

Jason nodded his head, it wasn't the last discussion they were going to have about the matter and he was going to keep an unobtrusive but close eye on Spinelli for the foreseeable future. Yet, looking at the boy's exhausted face, the lines of pain and fatigue that were incised around his mouth and eyes, he knew that the priorities of the moment were to get his shoulder looked at and then for him to get some sleep. Everything else could wait. After all, there was once again a future to contemplate, to envision, for both of them to shape together.

"C'mon," Jason stood up and reached down for Spinelli, careful not to jar his injury as he helped him regain his unsteady feet. With an arm wrapped around his waist, they began a slow shuffling walk towards the SUV Spinelli had driven up to the overlook. "We're going to the hospital to get your shoulder checked out and then home…"

"The hospital," Spinelli groaned, "Stone Cold, they will jab and prod and poke the Jackal and give him no peace but more than likely only exacerbate his already considerable pain. Can we not postpone the visit and take a wait and see attitude?"

"Nope," Jason said, "You're going and that's it." His voice was absolute and Spinelli knew any further protest on his part would be an exercise in futility.

"As Stone Cold wishes," he said in meek resignation. "What will Stone Cold do about his beloved motorcycle?" He asked, noticing the bike parked at a skewed angle off to the side. "Shall the Jackal endeavor to drive so that both vehicles can make the journey safely back to Port Charles?" He made the offer in all sincerity though he doubted he was capable of following through on it.

"Spinelli," Jason was helping him into the passenger seat and making sure that he was securely buckled in before moving to the driver's side. "The bike is a thing, a possession. I could care less about it. You, on the other hand, are entirely irreplaceable."

Spinelli blushed, glad of the concealing darkness as despite his throbbing shoulder, his lips curved up in a contented smile. For the first time in a long time, he felt that everything was going to work out and that tomorrow would be the beginning of a brand new future because he had the one thing that everyone needed to make life worthwhile, he was wanted.


End file.
